Come Back
by MusicRocks807
Summary: "You're strong enough to come back to me," Fuyuhiko said. "Fight it, Peko. Come back. That's… That's the last order I'm ever gonna give you." Rated T for Fuyuhiko's general presence. C/W vomiting.


Nagito was the first to wake up. It made logical sense; he was the Ultimate Lucky Student, after all. It didn't stop the swell of disappointment in Fuyuhiko's chest, though. That was only a few weeks after the game ended, and Hajime's research wasn't fully-fledged yet, so they had no guarantee their classmates would actually return as themselves. Nagito didn't exactly help to clarify this. He emerged from his pod with large, glassy eyes and lips parted in awe. His legs shook but he could walk towards them, arms spread wide.

Sonia flinched. Kazuichi reached for her shoulder, but she shook her head. "His hand…"

The sleeve obscured most of the crude stitching, but not the red-lacquered nails. Nagito glanced down at it, frowned, then dropped it to his side.

"I guess I'm just lucky it doesn't work," he said, smiling, and Hajime visibly relaxed.

Hajime stepped forward, one hand outstretched. "Welcome back."

Nagito clasped it in his good one. He was still clinging on as they staggered out of the room together.

Hajime had enough medicinal talent to safely remove the offending hand and clean the wound. He promised to begin work on a prosthetic once the reanimation process was perfected.

"Seems to be working pretty well to me," Akane said. She was sitting beside Nekomaru's pod, as always, head tilted back against the cool green glass.

Sonia nodded. She was kneeling beside Gundham's, as always. They came every single day, sometimes with Kazuichi or Hajime in tow. It was apparently to feel close to them, and Fuyuhiko believed that was true on some level, but he was also relatively certain it was to keep an eye on him. He hadn't left the pod room for anything other than basic functions since Nagito awoke. He had even dragged in a pillow and some blankets. If he wrapped himself up just right, tucked himself under the rim of her pod, it was almost as if he and Peko were in bunkbeds again.

One night, when the room was empty and cold and lonely, he curled up on top of her pod instead. He had never seen Peko look so calm. There were no lines creasing her face, no muscles tensing beneath her skin, no words locked behind her lips. He kissed the glass right over her mouth.

"You're strong enough to come back to me," Fuyuhiko said. "Fight it, Peko. Come back. That's… That's the last order I'm ever gonna give you."

He didn't believe anything would come of it, but it helped him fall asleep. He woke to sharp pain in his left hip and mechanical creaking. He was on the floor.

"M-master?"

The voice was weak and full of rasp, but he knew it. Fuyuhiko scrambled to his hands and knees and saw Peko sitting bolt upright in her open pod. "Peko!"

Her red eyes widened. "Master!"

She was swinging herself to her feet before he could stop her. Then she was falling heavily to her knees. Fuyuhiko ran to her, wrapped his arms tight around her shuddering frame, and tilted her head up. Water rimmed her eyes, and her throat trembled as she lifted one hand to brush his cheek.

"Peko…" He pressed his forehead into hers and smiled.

The pressure on his head vanished. She was scrabbling along the floor away from him, and he almost screamed before she began to retch. He held her loose hair back until she finished, rubbing slow circles into her back.

Someone responded to the commotion just as her second bout of nausea began. Akane flinched at the sight of Peko quivering in Fuyuhiko's arms, violently coughing up what looked like bloodied water.

"Is she-"

"Tell Hajime he needs to hurry up on that fucking research." Peko stilled; he stole the glasses from her face before the smell caught her stomach again. "I'm taking her to the hospital."

When the vomiting ceased again, Fuyuhiko turned her in his arms. He wiped her mouth with his sleeve and guided her closer to the steps, away from the thickening air. The colour gradually seeped back into her cheeks as her breathing steadied.

"I am sorry," she said once she was able.

He draped an arm around her waist. His head fell easily onto her shoulder. "Don't be, shithead."

Her own rested against his. Peko hadn't let him hold her like this in years. Fuyuhiko remembered the last time with crystal clarity; it was their first night at Hope's Peak. They had spent the whole day apart and rapidly realised that they had never done so before. Fuyuhiko had told her not to speak to him, but she didn't turn him away from her door. He curled up with her and kissed her and told her it was for the best. She kissed him back and made promises of hobbies and friends and other things that might never come to pass. They fell asleep clothed but tangled, like when he had nightmares as a child.

Fuyuhiko's face warmed at the memory. A small smile tugged at Peko's lips and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing. He sighed. "Don't you dare puke on me, alright?"

She chuckled. When was the last time Peko had chuckled to him? "I will try my best."

"You always do."

Her arm trailed up to hold him too. He had an incredibly irritational urge to kiss her. Instead, he gently lifted her to her feet, and they crept out of the room together.

Peko had been in the hospital for three days when Teruteru woke up. Turns out Nagito really had been lucky; the Ultimate Cook heaved as soon as he sat up. Hajime kept him in the pod for an extra twenty-four hours, hooked up to the wires and systems and life supports the Future Foundation had designed for them. Peko and Nagito had both ripped them out without thinking.

When Teruteru came out of the pod for good, he looked like he was shaking off the last of a bad flu virus. It was a significant improvement to Peko's fits of thrashing in her bed. They happened seemingly randomly, with the only common thread being Fuyuhiko's ability to calm her from them. He ran his hands over cool, clammy skin like a masseuse would, pressing into her body until it recognised his touch and curved into it.

"Fucking hell, if I'd known I could get that response from you, I'd have made a grab ages ago," he teased.

Peko blushed, dragging the thin blanket over her thin nightgown. With the alternating heat flushes and cold sweats, there wasn't much point in keeping her fully clothed. Besides, nobody wanted to see her in that white suit any longer.

"You shouldn't say things like that," she said.

"Relax." He patted her on the shoulder and leaned back in his seat. "I'm not gonna take advantage of you or nothing. I respect you too much for that."

"I would hope you wouldn't do it to anyone," she said, but she still reached for his hand.

She was finally managing to keep down water. Hajime had plugged her into an IV drip; he hoped Mikan would be able to check when she finally woke up, but for now it seemed to be keeping Peko going. Her blood pressure was lowering too, slowly but surely.

"She'll get better," Hajime had promised. "I just don't know when."

Fuyuhiko had said he could wait. He intended to keep that promise but the knife twisted a little deeper every time he saw her. He almost hadn't made it that morning, so a hastily packed overnight bag was now tossed at the bottom of her bed. He had correctly assumed she wouldn't mind the company.

Another cough tore through her throat. He patted her on the back until it passed. He remembered the mania in her gaze as she ripped herself free of the pod, flung herself towards him on atrophied muscles.

A groan rattled his chest. "You couldn't just leave the damn needles in for five minutes, huh?"

"I…" Her face was pink. It looked younger, free of her glasses and framed in silver. "I wanted to reach you."

"Yeah? And what did you plan to do when you got there? Don't lie to me, Peko, I can see it in your eyes."

She licked her lips. His own twitched. "I didn't know. I just wanted to be closer."

Fuyuhiko leaned in. "And now? Any idea?"

Peko wouldn't meet his gaze, but the colour roared in her cheeks. "I still want to be close."

He didn't bother holding back the smile. It tugged his lips wide, but it was quickly buried in her shoulder. Her muscles pulsed beneath his lips as he kissed her clavicle. He felt her breath catch; he tucked his head in closer and let his nose tickle her neck. She parted her lips as if to speak, but when nothing came out, she slowly sank into him.

Fuyuhiko smirked. "This close enough for you, Pek'?"

"…Yes, Master."

"I know damn well I've told you not to call me that." He jabbed a finger into her side. She squirmed and broke their embrace, and he immediately felt colder. "Fuck, I missed you."

"I missed you as well. I belong at your side."

"Can't argue with that. But… you belong there like this, okay?" He squeezed her hand firmly. "As an equal. At my side, not in my shadow. Get what I'm saying?"

He watched Peko's throat quiver as she swallowed. "I need to protect you."

"Not anymore. I can protect myself, and if I fuck up then I have other people looking out for me. You're not the only one anymore. You can afford to take a break."

The silence settled awkwardly around them. His words seemed to grow stagnant on his tongue, thick and furry like moss, but he didn't amend them. After all, Fuyuhiko had spent weeks mulling over this. He knew exactly what needed to be said. Peko, on the other hand, was staring at him like they were stood in the trial room again. His heart ached and for a moment, her face was smeared with tears and blood and dirt once more.

The chair squeaked as Fuyuhiko shifted. Peko blinked once, twice, then let her eyes drift closed.

Her voice was small when she said, "This is all that I am, Fuyuhiko. You are all that I am."

"That's not fucking true."

God he was shivering, he had never been more furious with her. Or his parents. Or anything else in the world. The anger was churning his blood into butter, but he had to keep speaking.

"You're a swordswoman, sure, but not necessarily mine. You're an athlete. You're an animal-lover who's shit with animals. You're a great listener. You're way better at that Bomber Guy game than you have any right to be. You're a part of the 77th class."

"Fuyuhiko…"

"You're a hell of a lot more than just me, Peko."

His breath rattled through his chest. Hers was the smoothest it had been in days. "I cannot do any of that without you."

"I – what? The fuck do you mean, without me? Where do you think I'm going?" She blinked at him again. He ground his teeth. "Dammit Peko, are you even listening? _I want you at my side_. I have always wanted you at my side and I always will. But I want you."

She licked her lips. "Not a tool."

"Yeah, not a tool."

"Like you said in the trial room."

It was just as sickening the second time. "Fuck. Yeah, like I said then. Like I'm gonna keep saying until you get it through your thick fucking head. You're not my possession, Peko – you're my best friend."

She dropped her head, but he still saw the smile tugging her lips upward. "And you are mine."

Fuyuhiko nodded. It felt warm, her understanding. The acknowledgement he had always longed for. He had never truly doubted it, but he knew she had. He lifted one hand to Peko's burning cheek. She leaned into his touch with the softest little murmur. His heart thudded terribly. If this was how hope always felt, he could understand Nagito's addiction.

A furrow formed in Peko's brow. "Are my readings still level?"

"Huh? Yeah, they're all the same." He slid his hand up to her forehead. "Why, something wrong?"

"There's a sharp pain in my chest. It feels like a pulled muscle, but I haven't done anything to trigger such an injury. Could you call for Hinata? I don't understand what's happening to me."

For a moment, he gaped at her. Then he realised, and the laugh bubbled out of him before he could stop it. Fuyuhiko's fingers slipped back into her silver locks and rubbed into the crown of her head.

"I think you're just feeling happy, Peko. Hopeful."

"No, it's not that. It's stronger."

"Does it feel like it's getting worse the longer you look at me? Does this make it worse, Peko?"

He kissed her neck again. Harder this time, his teeth pulling at the pale skin. When her breath hitched, he felt it against his lips. He kept working until the skin grew red. The mark was exactly the shape of his mouth and he adored seeing her bear it.

Peko inhaled slowly. "Yes. That's much worse. What –"

Her lips were softer than her neck. Fuyuhiko cupped her face in his palms as he kissed her. He was as greedy as any yakuza, drinking her in with ferocity. She clutched at his shoulders and pressed back. With his arms looped around her, Fuyuhiko clambered into the bed and tucked her against him. They parted with a quiet click.

He had never felt more at home. "You haven't pulled a muscle, Pek'. Unless we've both fucked the same one."

She wasn't smiling, but she wasn't moving either. He understood. It was already going significantly better than he had anticipated.

"Fuyuhiko, this is too much," she said.

He nodded. "I won't do anything else. I won't even say it yet, alright? But I'm gonna have to at some point. I've been bottling it up for way too many years."

"I'm not…"

"Ready? That's fine. I've had longer to think on it than you have. It's been on my mind ever since the trail. Do you know how long that's been for me? Months, Pek'. And I still can't get the damn words right."

Peko's head tilted. "You've been thinking about me for months?"

"I've been thinking about you my entire life," he said. "But point is, I'm not gonna rush you or nothing. And if I'm wrong, that's okay too."

She smiled and the warmth seeped into every nerve in his body. "You are very rarely wrong."

"That's a straight lie and you know it. But I think we're going to be on the same page here."

"… I hope so."

"Whenever that is," he said, patting her arm.

Fuyuhiko unwound his arms from around her waist, moving to climb off the bed. A hand at his wrist stilled him. Peko's eyes were deep and bright when he looked at her.

"You… You don't have to go," she said.

"No?"

"No."

"Okay." Fuyuhiko sat back, his hip brushing hers through the sheet. "Here's fine?"

"Yes. Here is… Here is not close enough." Peko lifted herself into his lap, her hands steady on his shoulders. She settled her back against his chest. "This is better."

"Definitely."

He wriggled the sheets free and pulled them up. It was easier to hold her with something over her skin. The heat gathered around them, and he found himself lying back. Peko was too long to lie atop him; he shifted sideways and curled around her instead.

"This is good," he said.

She nestled a little closer to him. It was a long time before she spoke again.

"I do not understand the words, Fuyuhiko. I am unused to using them." She hesitated. He lay his face between her shoulder blades as he waited. After a careful breath, she continued, "But I am used to understanding you. Without the words, I can do that."

"So this… This is okay, long as it's without words?"

"…Yes."

He smirked. "Then I'll shut the fuck up."

Peko giggled. True to his word, Fuyuhiko kept his mouth shut until he felt Peko's breathing even out. She snored slightly. His heart swelled painfully; she had always hated being reminded of it. It was one of his favourite ways to tease her when they were younger. Even then, he had adored the heat of her blush.

Fuyuhiko wasn't sure how long passed before Hajime arrived. To Hajime's credit, he recovered from the shock of their position rather quickly and knew better than to mention it. He even whispered his news so Peko was undisturbed. Mikan was awake. She was still hooked up to her pod for now, Hajime said, but soon she would be up and about and hopefully, ready to work.

"So she'll get better?" Fuyuhiko said.

Hajime smiled. "I promised she would. Everyone will."

Peko twitched in her sleep, wriggling in his hold. He waited until she stilled, then glanced back up at Hajime. The look in his mismatched eyes was so soft. Fuyuhiko couldn't help mirroring it.

"About fucking time we got a happy ending."


End file.
